


Catching Feelings

by michellejones



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5478668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellejones/pseuds/michellejones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Lydia even pulled up to her house, Malia was outside, waiting. She had heard.</p>
<p>By now, she knew Lydia did not like to be held. Not all the time. Especially not in moments like this.</p>
<p>Malia said nothing, like Lydia did. She just gave her a place to stay. She gave her warmth.</p>
<p>She gave her home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Feelings

It was when Malia and Stiles got into their first fight that Lydia said the first honest thing she’d thought in a while.

“You could do much better, you know.”

Surprisingly, Malia had called Lydia instead of Kira, and so there they were: sitting on Lydia’s bed, legs crossed, and watching each other.

“What do you mean?” Malia asked her. She looked angry, but Lydia knew that wasn’t the case. She was just… serious. Confused and frustrated, sure. But that had nothing to do with her.

“Well, for starters, you’re so out of his league. He knows that. You can ask him, if you’d like.” Lydia shrugged her shoulders as she said this, telling her nothing but the truth.

“I don’t get it,” Malia said firmly.

“Uh, okay…” Lydia pursed her lips, thinking out loud. “You’re pretty.”

“And Stiles isn’t?”

“Hold on,” Lydia said calmly. “You didn’t let me finish.”

Malia nodded slowly and was quiet once more, holding herself back. Stiles was someone she cared about; Lydia knew that. Everyone knew that. One fight didn’t change her love for him.

“You’re smart,” she continued. “And much more determined. You’re loyal but not possessive. He’s crazy possessive, and can’t even hide it. You’re kind and nurturing.”

Malia looked puzzled as she listed these things, more and more distant by the second; Lydia thought she was losing her.

“I could keep going, but you look like you’re about to fall asleep.” Lydia said with a wave of her hand, smiling softly.

“No!” Malia spoke suddenly, grasping onto Lydia’s wrist. “No, it’s not that. I’m just relaxed. This is… nice.”

Lydia smiled again, letting out a light laugh.

“Lydia,” Malia said seriously. “Why don’t we hang out more?”

Lydia looked up at Malia and watched her for a small moment.

What could she say? My best friend is dead, and now you’re here?

“I mean, the pack is busy…”

“It’s summer. No monster has tried to eat you in months.”

“Malia—”

“I want to know about Allison.”

Lydia froze, her eyes shooting down to the ring on her finger. The one Allison gave her last summer, after she came back from France.

Tears sprung in her eyes, but she batted them away.

No. Not today.

“Nobody ever talks about her, which I think is a bit weird. She was your best friend, she and Scott dated, Stiles and her were friends, so I think I should know about her. I never really knew her, but she saved me.”

Lydia was stuck in time; in shock; paralyzed. Malia stopped in her tracks, and listening to Lydia’s heartbeat. Her scent was anxiety, sadness, and fear as one; a scent nearing deathly.

But only moments later, she looked up at Malia, a different glint in her eye; a defensive wall, a cold glare, staring back at her.

“She’s your ghost, isn’t she?” Malia blurted out. She couldn’t stop herself.

Lydia opened her mouth slightly, ready to tear her apart. There were so many things on the tip of her tongue, until she realized… she was right.

Malia could see right through her.

“She helped you. She didn’t even know you,” Lydia whispered. Her voice was broken and pitchy.

That was all she could say without breaking down, though she was close to it. Malia watched her, looking in her eyes, and she knew that.

She tried once more. “She died saving me. Then she died saving Isaac.”

Malia didn’t look lost then. She followed along as if Lydia would never speak again.

And when Lydia let it all go, crying for the first time in front of someone that wasn’t Allison, she rested her head on Malia’s shoulder and collapsed in loss.

Malia didn’t need her to say it to know what she was thinking:

She died saving her friends.

And Malia knew, at first glance, that Lydia would have died for them, too.

* * *

Lydia sat in her car, driving aimlessly around the city. It was a late night in June. It was abnormal and usual at the same time. No partner in crime.

She lost her late March.

Her car was the strange kind of quiet that brought her back to that night. The Nogitsune whispering in her ear, Stiles falling apart in front of her, the slices in Isaac’s chest… Feeling Allison weakening her pulse inside her own chest.

It was a rainy day in California. Her driving was more and more sporadic by the second. In those moments, she could have cared less about herself. Her best friend was nothing but a ghost. Where did that leave her?

Sometimes she saw her dying in front of her. She could imagine it. But it seemed less imaginary, when it was right in front of her.

Right then was one of those moments. Her last words to Scott were building up in her ears at that moment, and she was ready to scream.

She turned up her car radio until it was full blasting, but she couldn’t hear it at all.

Pulling over to the side of the road, she got out of her car, trying to catch her breath. But before she could stop herself, choke it back, and pretend to smile, she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

* * *

Before Lydia even pulled up to her house, Malia was outside, waiting. She had heard.

By now, she knew Lydia did not like to be held. Not all the time. Especially not in moments like this.

Malia said nothing, like Lydia did. She just gave her a place to stay. She gave her warmth.

She gave her home.

By the end of the night, once Lydia finished her tea, Malia offered up her bed. Lydia looked surprised, then decided differently. She smiled softly, sadly, and allowed Malia to walk her to her room.

“If you need anything, I’m on the couch.” Malia’s eyes flickered from Lydia to the door, and then shut off her lights. She had to say it.

“We still love you, you know.”

Lydia gave no response, but that was okay. She knew she heard it. If she hadn’t, there would have been a rebuttal.

It was okay that she didn’t want to talk about it. Malia understood.

She didn’t really want to talk about her mom or her sister, either. So at 1 AM, when the voices finally quieted, she let her own new best friend sleep.

* * *

Panther Beach was rocky by its waters. It was beautiful.

It was a getaway day. Away from the boys, from Beacon Hills, and they were off to the warmth of the sun and the crashing waves of Santa Cruz.

It was just Malia and Lydia. Again. Kira left last week for New York, but Lydia had been growing closer to her, too.

She really did love Kira and thought highly of her, no matter the words she let leave her mouth. She was a katana wielding, beautiful bad ass; no one could take that away from her.

Kira, Scott, and Malia made such a great team that sometimes she like she couldn’t help. She always tried, though. Even if all she had were voices.

“Stop thinking about it,” Malia said, coming up from behind her. She poked her in the sides, and Lydia slapped away her hands.

“Fine. But I’m not going in the water. Northern California’s water is way too cold.”

“Suit yourself.” Malia gave her a silly grin. “But I’m going in there.”

“When you catch a nasty cold, I’m not saving you! Nor am I giving you my towel!”

Malia was already rushing into the waves by the time Lydia could get her words out. Damn, she was fast.

“I don’t need your damn towel!” Malia said cockily. Even from a distance, Lydia could still catch sight of her big, beautiful grin.

As Malia kicked her way through the sand and the waves, coming upon seashells, Lydia eventually stopped watching her. Soon enough, she was going to burn.

Fuck.

She applied as much sunscreen as possible, her horribly pale skin susceptible to the wrath of UV rays, and lost track of where Malia had gone.

She looked up, searching for her all around. Lydia looked behind her, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Lydia!” she heard a cry.

Lydia shot up off of her towel, running right toward the waves. She strained her eyes to search the sea, where the waves were getting bigger and bigger and crashing onto the shore.

“Malia!” she called. She strained her voice louder to find her, but there was nothing.

She saw her then, being swallowed whole by the sea.

“No, no, no…” Lydia muttered to herself. But she didn’t need to be told to dive right into the freezing water.

She swam as fast as she could, legs numb from the bite of the water, to get back Malia.

“Malia!” she screamed, calling for her lost friend. Until she saw her, right beside her, and took Malia tightly by her arm. “Hold onto me,” she said hoarsely. “Hold onto me like your life depends on it.”

“It does,” Malia said, choking on the last bit of water, and kicking her legs like Lydia was.

Once they reached the shore, they were both trembling. Around each other, against each other, and while they were wrapped in Lydia’s towel.

“Don’t I have my own?” Malia asked, tugging Lydia’s towel closer around them.

“Yeah, but… here, we have body heat.” Lydia hissed through her teeth, turning toward her. “Don’t wolves know how to swim?”

“Werecoyote, first of all, and…” Malia smiled bashfully. “Not this one.”

Lydia smacked her shoulder playfully, though she really was scared, and Malia could sense it. But this time, she kept quiet. She was here now, and soon enough, Lydia wouldn’t be scared.

“I still want to tan, you know.”

Lydia raised her eyebrows, shaking her head. “I mean, okay. But I will look like a tomato.”

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” Malia agreed, wholeheartedly.

“Guaranteed,” Lydia affirmed again.

“Yep.”

They both sat on the burning sand, chilly, but together.

“Wanna call Scott?” Lydia asked her.

“No.”

“Stiles?”

“Hell no,” Malia said. “I just want to hang out with you.”

A smile played on Lydia’s lips, a fondness for Malia growing in her chest. She felt warm again, and right.

“My friend,” she sang. Malia watched her face carefully, somber suddenly. Her smile slowly fell off her face. “Best friend,” she corrected herself.

“I love you, Malia.”

Malia grinned again, placing her hand on top of Lydia’s; it was then that Lydia realized that she loved her, too.

Just not like that.

“We should get married,” Malia said casually. “You know, when Stiles and I have our final fight. It’s not really working out.”

“Yeah, that would show him,” Lydia chimed in bitterly. She laid down on her back, watching the clouds slowly move from one side of the sky to the other. She was lost in it, really.

“No, not to show him.” Malia told her. She was looking at the sky, too. “I think we would be good together.”

Lydia looked at her slowly, her eyes burning from the sun, from her light, but she could hardly look away.

“Don’t you think?” Malia asked her gently.

Little did she know then, but that changed everything. For her, for Lydia, for the pack, for the universe.

That’s when Lydia sat up, leaned toward her, and kissed her, full on the mouth. Fully capable, and fully experienced, but messy all the same.

She pulled back to watch Malia for a moment, and Malia caught her wide and vulnerable eyes.

“Do you still think we’d be good together?”

Malia lost her breath only shortly before taking her face in her hands and telling her, “It’s all I want.”

They were together long after the beach, and long after the sun went down.

* * *

Lydia finally admitted it. “Scott, I love her.”

* * *

“Stiles, I’m sorry.” Malia cried.

* * *

“What are you going to do? Stiles isn’t talking to you.” Scott said, confused.

“I don’t belong to Stiles. He needs to stop thinking that.”

* * *

“We’re not right for each other anymore,” Malia said shakily.

Stiles finally broke his quiet. “Were we ever?”

“Yes!”

* * *

“What about Malia?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know about her,” Lydia replied quickly.

It hit Scott then. “You haven’t talked to her.”

“She’s been fighting with Stiles for the past three days.”

* * *

The first time Malia hit voicemail, she didn’t take it personally. She left a brief, calm message. The second time, she knew something was off, because Lydia, in her free time, was practically attached to that thing. The third time…

Well, she was at her house before Lydia could even wake up completely.

She knocked rapidly on her door, knowing that going through her window wasn’t the right approach at this point.

“Lydia, open the damn door!”

She hears a muffled shout coming from inside. “I’m not here! I’m asleep!”

“Yes, you are! I’m not stupid.”

Lydia swung open the door, face to face with Malia. “You done arguing with your ex boyfriend?”

Malia rolled her eyes. “Why the hell else do you think I’m here? To look for my ex inside your house?”

Lydia scoffed, taking her by the hand, and pulled her inside. “Get in here before you wake up the neighbors with your excessive yelling.”

Malia rolled her eyes as Lydia dragged her through her house and into her room.

“I miss you,” Lydia mumbled as Malia backed her up against the door frame. Their hands were intertwined as Malia pinned them up above her head and against the wall.

“I know,” Malia whispered, planting a kiss on her lips. “I’m psychic.”

“No way,” Lydia replied with a laugh. “Me too.”

“No more talking, okay? I just want to kiss my girlfriend.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Malia placed her hands on Lydia’s thighs, lifting her up and gave her access to wrap her legs around her waist.

Lydia pulled her closer, planting harsh kisses up and down her neck. With friction and heat between them, Lydia bit down on Malia’s ear, eliciting a moan and—

“Bed,” she mumbled into her skin.

Malia fumbled to make it to the other side of Lydia’s room, nearly knocking herself over as she laid her down on the satin sheets; sheets that were cool on her hot skin and inviting. Lydia pulled her down to meet her touch, to kiss and bite her lip. Malia hit the bed hard, and a call was heard throughout the house.

“Lydia?” The sound of Miss Martin's voice startled the both of them. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, Mom! I’m fine!”

Lydia widened her eyes at Malia, who rolled on the bedside next to her.

“Close call,” Malia mumbled smugly.

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”


End file.
